Aquarius
by DesireeStorms
Summary: Borehamwood harbors many dirty and untold secrets. Arianna comes to meet the madman that resides in the basement, and, unintentionally, their fates become entwined after a fire breaks out in the asylum. However, the fire is not the only thing threatening to end Ryan's life. Will she help him, or will she just become another skeleton in his closet?
1. Welcome to the Jungle

**Disclaimer: **_**Thir13en Ghosts**_** and its characters belong to Steve Beck.**

******Borehamwood harbors many dirty and untold secrets. A woman commits herself to the asylum, where she comes to meet the madman that resides in the basement. ****Despite his rabid personality and insatiable lust, she finds herself utterly fascinated with his case. **Unintentionally, their fates become entwined **as she comes to learn the patients aren't the only ones who present a threat**, and she is burdened with the decision to stick to her own business or go against her orders and do what's right. Her own secrets will be what changes Ryan's life forever.

**Chapter #1: Welcome to the Jungle**

The starch white halls were bustling with activity during a wintery afternoon, slightly chilled as the nurses made their hourly rounds; tending to the patients that milled about in the corridors and day rooms. A pair of vigilant hazel green eyes scanned over the movement with subtle scrutiny, shifting every which way as she passed by with the orderly walking leisurely at her side. Admittedly, when she had first arrived at Borhamwood, she had not expected the treatment of the patients to be as high-quality as they were, having anticipated near constant tension between patients and orderlies. She had pictured the walls, floors, and people to carry more dirt and grime than they did, but this was not the case either. As a matter-of-fact, everything looked as if it had been bleached, as if someone were trying a little too hard to wash away dirty secrets. Also, the way even the calmest of patients appeared to cringe or send nervous glances towards the orderlies and head administrator didn't fail to escape her acute attentions. A show. It was all a grand masquerade. Beside her, her escort cast a curious glance down to the top of her head, which did go unnoticed on her part.

"You're quiet today."

Blinking from her thoughts, she looked up to him at the offhanded statement. "Am I normally talkative?"

"More so than this. What's on your mind, if you don't mind me asking?"

The orderly she was walking with, Gary, was one of the only two black employees in the asylum, and he was also one of the very few she had bothered to open up to. He had quickly become her favorite amongst the men, his good-humored and positive disposition a welcomed relief amid the grayed atmosphere of the hospital's blanched walls. She admired how he always treated everyone with equal amounts of respect and kindness, whether they be patient, nurse, or doctor; and his unyielding patience with even the more difficult cases impressed her greatly. She had been present when a disruptive patient had uncouthly called him a nigger, and she had seen it in his eyes that he had not been pleased, yet he never lifted a harming hand towards the man, remaining calm despite the vulgar shot at his skin color.

"Just scanning my surroundings is all," she replied after a moment.

"There hasn't been much action today. How'd your session with Dr. Harding go?"

She gave a disdainful sniff. "The man doesn't know Penicillin from Prozac."

He chuckled. "Forgive for asking… but why bother committing yourself if you have no intentions of accepting help from the doctors?"

"I would if they assigned me a doctor that didn't resemble a chimp in a lab coat."

This earned another chuckle. "You know, you've been here for over a week, and I still don't know your story."

"You make a week sound like years." She looked up at him. "So what is it, Gary? Gain my trust so I'll tell you all my deepest darkest secrets? I must admit, it's a different approach. I was expecting they'd send in some sugar-coated psychiatrist to butter me up."

He smiled at her. "Ah, they don't pay me enough to play detective."

"Then why the curiosity?"

"Keeps the job interesting." He sent her a genial smirk, to which she returned wryly with a roll of her eyes. "You committed yourself, right?" he asked.

"What of it?"

"Why would someone like you commit yourself to a place like this?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps I'm crazy."

His lips pulled into a sardonic grin. "Come on. Seriously."

Her eyes met his briefly before falling to the polished checkered floor, not answering right away. After a minute, she looked back forward and came to a halt to gaze out the barred window they were passing. A long silence followed after that, Gary having stopped to stand beside her in question at her sudden stillness. Her eyes were somber as she stared out at the afternoon sky, watching the leaves of the trees sway lazily with the gentle breeze. Just beyond the front gates, civilization was visible but beyond reach, as if to taunt the viewer with inaccessible dreams of escape.

"It's so sad," she said at last.

"What is?"

"The fact the patients are allowed to witness the outdoors… to be a mere panel of glass away from freedom… but being unable to reach it."

"Patients are allowed to go outside."

"Not all of them."

"I trust you know why we can't let some of them out," he said, voice holding a meaningful edge.

Her eyes absently swiveled behind him, where a thick iron door was stationed at the end of the hall. It was one of the three entrances to the basement of the asylum, and from what she had been told it was a place few have been. A place that once entered, there was usually no coming back up.

"Like that poor bastard they keep locked in the cellar?"

His body visibly stilled at the abrupt comment, all mirth draining from his features to be replaced with a puzzled frown. "What?" he managed.

"Oh, please. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. Word gets around quickly amongst patients, my friend. I'm talking about this asylum's dirty little secret."

To say he appeared uncomfortable with the subject would have been a severe understatement, his eyes shifting away from hers in clear avoidance as his lips pressed together in a flattened line. Lifting his hand, he ran it over his smooth head as a sigh escaped him. "I'm not supposed to talk about other patients, Arianna."

"Is it true? Is he really being kept in the basement? Just answer me that."

"It's hard to explain. The man's lost. He's as violent as it gets, and it's the only place safe enough to keep him."

"In the basement next to the furnace is _safe_?"

"You wouldn't question it if you were aware of what he's done to get himself down there," he said, his voice taking on a grave tone.

Her eyes remained locked intently with his, but before either had a chance to say anything else, a sudden shout caused both their heads to snap upwards and take a sharp turn down the hall. They were not the only ones alerted to the racket, as the other nurses and orderlies in the area lifted their heads in alert, looking much like a group of meerkats detecting danger. Within seconds, patients were being cleared from the area, after a muffled crash was heard from behind the door followed by more shouting and a surplus of swearing.

"Speak of the Devil…" Gary muttered.

Arianna looked up at him. "What's going on?"

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Stay here." And with that, he was running down the hall, removing the loop of keys from his belt in the process. Quickly unlocking the door, he disappeared behind it, shutting it just as quickly. A nurse had come to stand beside Arianna, where she was now trying to lead her away by the arm with small tugs and hushed, hurried words, but Arianna wasn't budging.

"That's him, isn't it?" she asked the nurse.

Before the redheaded woman could respond, a voice bellowed from the basement: "LOOK OUT, 'E'S COMIN' UP!"

The few remaining nurses in the area gave high-pitched shrieks of terror before running from the scene like a cluster of frantic hens. Arianna looked sharply to the door once more when it suddenly swung open, and the two figures that had barreled through crashed to the floor in a tangled heap of limbs. One of them was clearly a patient, the orderly having tackled him right as he was making his escape; his arms still wrapped around the thrashing man's torso. He wasn't able to keep his grip for long, however, for his captive, although bound in a straightjacket, managed to shake him off with one particularly violent twist of his body. The next thing Arianna knew, he was on his feet and taking off down the hall, which was right when Gary appeared in the doorway, his eyes widening in horror when he saw their captive was heading straight for her.

"RUN, ARIANNA!"

The crazed man lunged at her, and the next thing she knew she was toppling backwards with the impact, as a startled shriek escaped through her lips followed by a grunt with the rough landing. The metal cage upon her assailant's head managed to clip her temple with the fall, and she emitted a loud curse as it sent a spike of pain through her cranium.

"OW! Son of a—!"

Gary and the orderly who had been knocked off flew down the hall to her aid. "Get 'im off her! Quick!"

Yet they didn't have the chance to so much as reach for the caged man, as Arianna pushed up under him with her feet and effectively threw him off her with a mighty heave of her leg muscles. He fell beside her, and she scrambled to her feet as Gary pounced him before he could get up. Within seconds, a total of five men were on top of the wild man, two sitting on his back and holding his arms down while two held down his legs, and another pinned his head to the floor.

Arianna had never seen anything like it. He barely looked human as he thrashed beneath his captors like a wild animal, screaming madly in a fit of unadulterated rage and terror alike. He had blown through the basement door like a rampant tornado, raven black, uncut hair whipping about in a wild, untamed frenzy. His eyes held the feral wrath of a rabid animal, and he was all but frothing at the mouth as he continued his efforts to throw off the orderlies crushing his ribcage into the hard tile. Seeing that he had been subdued for the time being, one of the nurses had dared to step beyond the safety of the doors and hurry up to Arianna to check for injury.

"Are you alright, Arianna?"

Arianna brushed her off gently, never removing her eyes from the madman. "I'm fine."

One of the orderlies had stuck him with a sedative not too long ago, and it was finally starting to take effect. Gradually, the thrashing began to slow, and she watched as his heaving form ceased its fruitless struggles. When his eyes took a sharp turn towards her, she felt as if she were staring at the Devil himself, eyes of fire piercing through her soul with a combination of pure hate and blackened rage. Hell resided within this one, but her gaze did not falter as she stared straight back at him—not with contempt or disgust—but with curiosity.

Slowly, his eyes had fallen shut as the sedative took its hold on his system, and at last his restrainers allowed their grips to loosen, their muscles hesitantly relaxing as he stilled beneath them. Gary was the first to stand, releasing his grip on the matted mess of hair to turn and face Arianna.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm fine."

One of the other orderlies looked up at her with a grim expression. "Welcome to Borhamwood, darlin'."

She stared at him.

* * *

**So much for good first impressions :p Luckily, Arianna is not easily shaken.**


	2. Meeting the Madman

**Disclaimer: **_**Thir13en Ghosts**_** and its characters belong to Steve Beck.**

**Chapter #2: Meeting the Madman**

Arianna sat in the dayroom the next afternoon, her mind only half there as she entertained one of the other patients with a piano lesson. The man was twitchy and hardly a developed instrumentalist, but she just smiled and complimented his efforts, clapping quietly whenever he managed to get a few of the notes down. Most others would cringe at the potholed sound of the uneven notes punched out by the man's unsteady fingers, but Arianna remained patient. The sparkle of excited pride that appeared in his eyes whenever she praised him was well worth the headache in her book. Many of the patients in Borehamwood were alone in the world, not having any family or contacts on the outside who cared for them. It was these patients she most enjoyed interacting with when she was confined to the dayroom. The nurses had also taken a bright shine to her over the few weeks she had been there, as they observed her with the patients, admiring her kindness and gentle nature. So far, it seemed her only foe was the owner of the asylum, Mr. Harding.

The man was an unorganized, imprudent fool when it came to the patients, herself included. Yet, when the inspectors had come, all of a sudden the care of the patients was top priority. Suddenly, he knew all their names, and the hospital was his pride and joy. Arianna had felt her stomach churn when he'd patted a patient's back in scantily performed familiarity.

She also knew that he was the man responsible for that poor bastard locked up in the basement.

Her attention was suddenly redirected upwards when she heard footsteps approaching, and she grew a friendly smile when she was greeted with the sight of Gary walking towards her. He returned her smile on a genuine scale as he watched her conduct the piano lesson. Knowing he was likely there to speak with her, she gently touched her student's shoulder to get the fidgety man's attention.

"I have to go for now. You keep practicing, okay?"

A twitchy, almost nervous nod was her response, and she quietly stood from the bench before walking over to join Gary.

"Is Dr. Simpleton summoning me?" she asked dryly.

He chuckled. "No. I'm on lunch, and I just figured I'd ask if you want to take a walk outside."

"That would be a relief." She smiled.

The air was crisp and entered her nostrils carrying an array of scents such as the sharp smell of pine and sweet accents of freshly cut grass. Her raven locks drifted gently with the breeze, a contented smile tugging at her lips. Beside her, Gary was watching her with a small smile of his own.

"You know, for someone who just encountered something out of everyone's nightmares, you're very content."

Arianna turned her gaze up towards him with vague indifference. "I've encountered criminals fiercer than him. He's a rookie."

"Oh, I forgot," he said, tone tinted with lighthearted derision, "your secret life."

She scoffed softly. "If only it were a secret."

He eyed her. "So, is that what this is? You're hiding?"

She chuckled sardonically. "If I wanted to hide, I wouldn't do it here."

"Then what? By the sound of it, you're making it seem as if you're in some kind of trouble."

"My friend, you don't know the meaning of the word."

He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"As for that man in the basement… he looks like the type to have an idea."

A vaguely cynical scoff escaped him. "He got himself thrown down there. The doctors tried, but he was just too out of control."

"So, he wasn't always like this?"

"Well… he's always been dangerous. It's just grown worse over the years."

"Mmm. I'd imagine being locked in a pitch black basement with no human interaction might chip away at one's sanity."

"We've tried bringing him back up," he defended promptly. "He just won't have it."

"What do you mean?"

"Screams like a banshee whenever someone tries getting close to 'im. I thought I'd lose my hearing the first time I went down there. He's quieter around the nurses. It's the orderlies he reacts the most violently towards."

"Makes sense," said Arianna.

"What makes you say that?"

"The nurses are all women. He doesn't feel threatened by them. The orderlies, however…. I've seen how they deal with the fighters."

He sighed, leaning against the thick trunk of the large oak tree they'd stopped under. "Some of them get a bit carried away, I'll give you that… but sometimes we have no choice but to be rough." He looked at her. "Since we're on the subject, why didn't you leave with the nurses when he escaped?"

She shrugged. "Curiosity?"

"You're lucky he didn't kill you. Or worse."

She released an incredulous snort. "His arms were bound!"

"That didn't stop him from giving you a souvenir." To further demonstrate his point, he flicked her temple next to the mark she was now sporting from there the cage had hit her head.

She batted his hand away. "Believe me, I've had a lot worse."

He looked at her, his eyes seeming to achieve some form of awareness as he looked her over, but before he had a chance to voice his obvious concern, she cut him off with a question.

"What's his name?"

"…Kuhn."

"His _first_ name." She rolled her eyes.

"Ryan." He eyed her closely. "Why the sudden curiosity?"

She shot him a look that was a bit more than skeptical. "The man all but ran me flat. If you encountered something like that, wouldn't you be a little curious? You can't expect me to believe he didn't fascinate you when you first saw him."

"I was right terrified of 'im. You should be, too," he said seriously. "I don't care _what_ you've been through. He's a horror show, and he wouldn't hesitate to kill you if he were given the chance. And he'd enjoy it, too."

"You're doing rations tonight in the men's ward, right?" she asked suddenly.

He blinked. "_No_," he said instantly, knowing where her mind was going. "Helping me do rounds is one thing, Arianna, but _that_ I cannot do."

"I grew up in a warzone. Believe me, I can handle it," Arianna argued.

"Yeah? Well, this psycho grew up in the slums of a warzone. Don't underestimate him, even with the jacket."

"So his life was rough before he came here?"

He stared at her intently. "What are you, an undercover reporter?"

"No. I'm just stuck in a cage filled with drooling, fidgety monkeys, and I'm _bored_."

"Which leads me back to my original question as to why you committed yourself."

"You want answers so bad?" she said. "Take me down there with you. Let me meet him, and I'll answer anything you ask."

Surprisingly enough, he seemed to be considering the offer. It appeared she was not the only one overcome by her curiosity.

"You'll answer anything."

"Yes."

"Truthfully."

"Yes. However, it's up to you to believe me."

"…Fine. Just don't say I didn't give you fair warning. If you are to go down there, you are to stay behind me at _all times._"

"Deal." She held her hand out for a handshake. He hesitated for only a moment, and then took her hand in his.

Later that evening, Arianna walked alongside Gary as they made their way through the remaining corridors of the men's ward. She had opted to completely tune out the more roguish patients' comments as they passed through, taking shots at her womanhood and asking for sexual favors she had no intentions of administrating. Gary had done his best to silence them, but there was no stifling some of the more insubordinate offenders, and as a result he received a few offensive terms slung at him in return. At one point, Arianna had finally placed her hand on his arm and told him it wasn't worth wasting his breath on.

"Who's your lady friend, Gary?" one of them teased.

Gary passed by him without so much as a single sideways glance.

Another cackled. "The lady likes her meet dark."

Arianna kept her hand on Gary's shoulder, giving a small squeeze when she felt his muscles tensing with each remark. "Just ignore them. They're only envying you."

Looking down at her, his mouth tugged into a lopsided smirk. "How do you stay so calm? Most women would be shaking in their shoes walking through here. You're the first to ever volunteer to do night rounds in the men's ward."

She shrugged. "I've dealt with demons a lot worse than a few horny men."

It was clear by the vaguely troubled expression on his face that he still resented the idea of taking her with him, but it was in her personal experience that curiosity often outweighed better judgment. It seemed the case was the same with Gary. He'd been trying to milk information from her practically since the day she had arrived, and now she was offering. In all honesty, she couldn't imagine what made her so interesting to him. There were many patients, Kuhn especially, who were a hell of a lot more interesting than she was. She followed behind him down the hall, and she could feel her anticipation rising as they neared the forbidden door.

"How many patients have actually been down here?" she asked.

"Since Kuhn?" He looked back at her. "None."

The door pushed open with a screeching groan.

"Stay behind me."

"Gary, relax. He's not going to come charging up the stairs."

"You'd be surprised," he said gravely. "You don't know how lucky you are to escape with a small bruise. If he hadn't been stunned by the fall, you wouldn't have gotten out of that without being sent to a real hospital."

"Why is he so crazed? You know, aside from the way he's been treated."

"I wasn't here when he first came, but I know he committed himself, so I'm assuming he had some wits about him at the time."

"He committed himself?" This bit of information caught her immediate attention. "Well, I never would have guessed that one."

He chuckled.

"Why is he here? What did he do?"

"I'm not really supposed to say."

She didn't make any effort to stifle the loud scoff that left her lips. "So you'll take me to the most dangerous section of the asylum, but you won't tell me what he did? Honestly, Gary, who am I going to tell?"

"How do I know I can trust you?" he asked, but she could hear it in his voice that he was jesting. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Will it really make a difference if I try convincing you? We're in a mental asylum."

He chuckled again. "Come on. You can ask him yourself."

She caught his tone. "He won't tell me anything."

"You never know. Just don't get too close to the bars."

Reaching down, he lit the lantern he held in his right hand, and they were given a dim visual of their surroundings. It looked more like a dungeon than a hospital, the white walls and floors having been replaced with cement. Momentarily, her imagination ran away from her as she pictured some horrible monster emerging from the shadows. It was a step beyond inhabitable.

"I've only been down here three minutes, and I've lost some of my sanity."

"Wait until the smell hits you."

"What smell?"

Then, as they were walking down the narrow hallway, it hit her. It started off as a dull stench that might make one rub their nose, but then it steadily grew worse, and by the time Gary had stopped in front of a door her hand had came to press over her nose in disgust. When he looked over his shoulder at her, a hearty chuckle emitted from his throat at the look of outright revulsion on her face.

"What _is_ that?" she exclaimed.

"Welcome to my job."

"Christ almighty; when was the last time someone scrubbed this place down?! How the hell is he not _dead_?"

"If you want to volunteer to drag him out of there and give 'im a bath, be my guest."

Hand still over her nose, she was setting him with a look of repulsed incredulity. "Honestly, is that even legal?" she cried, voice muffled by her hand.

"Believe me; we've tried cleaning up both the room and him. He just won't have it."

"_What_?"

"You saw him earlier. Every time we try touching him he throws a fit."

"So tranquilize him! Jesus Christ!"

"The doctors try not to. They feel drugging the patients form anger and distrust. And keep your voice down."

"Oh, but putting cages on their heads and throwing them in a pitch black basement cell doesn't have that effect?" she blurted.

He went to answer her, when suddenly he froze as he looked back towards the cell. Without warning, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her away, earning a frown from her. She followed his gaze to the small barred window, and she saw what had him so tense.

He was right up against the bars, staring at them with indecipherable eyes.

"He never comes up to the door," Gary muttered, never removing his eyes from the madman.

Arianna barely heard him, eyes fixed on the caged man in an intense stare-off. His eyes were locked on her, completely ignoring Gary's presence, who had tensed to stone-like rigidness, chest puffing out and shoulders squared as his fists clenched at his sides. She glanced at him, noting his obvious hostility towards Ryan with no small amount of attention.

"He's locked up, Gary. Relax. You're making _me_ nervous," she chided quietly.

She turned her eyes back towards Ryan. She could only see him from the shoulders up at the moment, but she hadn't forgotten her first interaction with him, or how thin he had been. Malnourished would have been a severe understatement, cheeks sunken from lack of proper feeding. Thick, untamed raven hair sat in a nest atop his head, reaching just passed his shoulders. The jacket constricting his upper half looked much too tight for comfort, in her opinion, but as far as physical wounds went he appeared to be unharmed. Of course, anything could be hidden beneath the confining clothing. What grabbed her attention the most, however, was the cage that encased his head in a fashion that appeared much too medieval for the time.

"What is this thing on his head for…?" she asked while openly staring at it, at the moment too curious to worry about appearing impolite.

"I told you, he's as violent as it gets. He tries biting anyone that touches him, and he's gnawed through the jacket."

"Can't say I blame him," she muttered, mainly to herself. "I'm surprised he can breathe."

Silence was her answer.

"What's the hook for…?"

"They…" He cleared his throat. "There's a ring on the ceiling… for when he gets, um… too out of control."

Slowly, she turned her head to look back at him, her eyes slightly widened with a mixture of palpable disbelief and amazement. "That's barbaric."

He shrugged. "You wouldn't be so defending if you knew anything about him."

"Well, from what you've told me I'm going to assume he's killed people." She took a step closer to the bars before he could stop her, so she was a mere few inches away from Kuhn. When she spoke, her voice was quieter, addressing both men with her next statement. "He's undressing me with his eyes at this very moment."

His silence probably would have been taken as the indication he hadn't a single clue what she had said, but she knew better. Impossibly vibrant hazel eyes stared back at her in an almost bored manner, seemingly uninterested in her existence or why this outlandish woman was standing before him. He was looking at her as if she were a speck of dust floating through the air, but she had dealt with enough men to know better. He wasn't interested in her, per say, but the visuals that lied beneath the fabric concealing her body from his view. Tilting her head at him, the corner of her mouth tugged into a knowing smirk.

"Isn't that right?" she asked softly, speaking to him directly.

Those vibrant eyes flickered towards hers once more, a glimmer of recognition flitting through his stare. There was no doubt in her mind he could understand every word she was saying. Then suddenly, she was yanked back sharply by the back of her shirt, and she looked up to see Gary was sending her a disapproving frown.

"Don't toy with him, Arianna," he warned.

"The other orderlies have told me he can't understand a word that's said to him." She looked at him. "He can understand us just fine."

"One look at 'im, and you've come to that conclusion, have you?" he said, sounding less than convinced.

"Someone's eyes can tell you a lot." She returned her gaze to Ryan. "Like what kind of person they are."

The last bit was said with an edge of meaningfulness that left both men staring at her intently. Those vibrant eyes stared back at her, dissecting her as if she were a slab of meat he may or may not want to devour. It hardly fazed, her but her body guard was far from comfortable with the predatory nature in which the madman was ogling her in. Stepping forward, he hit the side of his fist firmly against the metal door, and it startled Ryan enough to make him take a violent recoil backwards whilst emitting a sound that resembled a snarl mixed with a yelp. Arianna watched, engrossed, as he shrank back into the shadows of the cell like a frightened animal, disposition taking a rapid switch from seemingly uninterested and unruffled to clearly alarmed and hostile. He reminded her much of a crouching tiger, ready to strike should the orderly dare to unlock the door and step inside his enclosure. It was both fascinating and frightening.

"If I opened this door, he would start screeching like a howler monkey. He's a mad one, Arianna."

"The question is how mad," she murmured.

"What?"

Glancing back at him, she merely shook her head. "Nothing."


End file.
